


Fault

by FallenSurvivor



Category: The Dark Crystal (1982), The Dark Crystal: Age of Resistance (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-21
Updated: 2020-07-21
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:42:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25417873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FallenSurvivor/pseuds/FallenSurvivor
Summary: It wasn't Kylan's fault. it's just...well, he saw a strange boat floating down his river. And yes, there happened to be a beauty in it.Or....What if Brea drank the memory wiping potion?
Relationships: Brea/Kylan (Dark Crystal)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 18





	Fault

Kylan sighed and poked the fire with a stick. Should he add more wood? He needed to keep his wife and their childling warm. And yet, what if they were taken from him. Kylan shifted only to look at the bundle of blankets next to him. That bundle that was his wife. He had put his blanket over her own before the last brother set a bit ago, but only after he played his firca as her bedtime story.

None of this was fair!

More than a trine ago, Kylan returned to the Great Smerth after a rather long mission, he had left his little hut to go down to the river and collect water. And then he saw a single little rowboat not rowing at all, drifting from the mouth of the sea and into the river and towards him. He sloshed into the water and grabbed the lip of the boat and peered in and- 

Found the most beautiful Gelfling he ever did see. 

She was a Vapran, he really only knew that, but he could also tell her delicate face was burned from exposure. He pulled the boat and ran it ashore before he climbed in and tried to wake the beauty. She stirred slowly, groaned and shivered. Kylan was gentle. What if he scared her? 

She sat up and drank heartily from his canteen and let him hold her. He asked her name, and then, nothing. “I don’t know.” She had whispered. And her voice was so pretty. Then he asked who her family was? If she was mated? If her mind was bonded to anyone? She didn’t even know that she was a Vapran. Kylan was flabbergasted. She was all alone. The beautiful Vapran let him pick her up and carry her to his little home where he settled her into his bed gave her broth, then played his firca until she slept. He slept on the floor by the fire and listened to her breath as his lullaby.

Like he did tonight. She took a very deep breath and turned over and Kylan froze before her reached down and rearranged her blankets. She mumbled and caught his fingers with the tips of her hers. How did this all get so out of hand? Ah yes. He fell in love

She floated into his life without any remembrance of anything, except, there was something. Nothing about her life, herself or her family, but she was a well of knowledge. She could regurgitate constellations, when they were founded and what they meant for all the different ages. She helped his little garden expand into fields of healthy things. She even threw a spice or two into his broths that he carried to Maudra Mera home once an unum. He had to return home to the gelfling who raised him after his parent’s death, like a beloved aunt, but his nameless beauty never wanted to come. 

In fact, she never wanted to leave their little homestead. She took her time drawing and sketching. Sowing and cleaning. She busied herself with his home and she didn’t have too. He toiled in his fields, and played music for her. Rubbed her shoulders and wings when she spent too much time sowing or hunched over whatever books he could get for her. She spent hours reading to him, asking him questions he never knew the answers too, but he would listen to her ask. At night, he would race her down the soft dirt road that cut between his fields. But she always won their race, her legs were stronger, her wings would push her further and the two of them would lay down and star gaze. 

After his third return from Mera’s home, his nameless beauty waited until that night to race him out into the fields, but instead of falling into the plants to gaze at the stars, she wrapped her arms around him in a hug and kissed him. He nearly grew wings himself that night, to fly up to the heavens and die. Kylan held her tight, kissed her back, kissed her hands, her cheeks, her nose. All over her face. 

About two unum later, he asked for her hand. She gave it immediately, mated him that night. They bonded for life, slipped in and out of each other’s souls and minds and bodies. And he saw into her mind and every time, there was nothing about who she was. Just thoughts and knowingness about things he couldn’t seem to fathom. How could she? The education she must have had. Still, who was she? 

And Maudra Mera wanted to know, too? Who was the gelfling who enthralled and mated her adopted childling? And helped him build his fields and helped to create such beautiful broths that all the Maudra who visited were delighted by. Who was this Gelfling? 

She demanded Kylan bring his wife to their next dinner and he agreed. He was happy too. He wanted his wife and adopted mother to meet, greet, and Thra willing, like each other. He told his wife only after she shared the news of their developing childling with him. He was over all three moons and then some. Nothing could hinder him. Nothing could darken his eyes ever again. 

Then, he brought his nameless beauty to the Maudra’s home. And her face. The look on Mera’s face. Mera was horrified. Angry. And her face twisted in revulsion. “What have you done?” His wife tucked herself against his chest, and he draped his arms around her. He would protect her. 

Mera let out a wail as she fell into her throne, “Kylan, How did you get her?” then, in that horrible night, Mera told Kylan all about how precious princess Brea disappeared. 

Many unum ago Brea was clamoring about a vision, needed answers and said she would find them. Then poof! Gone. Kylan only showed Mera his finding of his wife, of her amnesia. Mera growled about sifan trickery, how they were the only ones who knew of a potion that would totally wipe a mind. 

Such as Brea. Apparently. She took to her name okay. Accepting it as was, but kept her hands on his elbow. Brea had told him that she was afraid when he left the room. How she worried he wouldn’t want her. He merely held her closer and promised he would die first. And he would. He ached that he complicated, burdened her life more than he could ever know by marrying her. She a princess, would have the stain of a mixed childling and a foreign husband on her name and crown. 

Mera shook her head, but ordered he pack bags and provisions and take Brea back to Ha’rar. With a slow gait and heavy heart, the pair plodded home where they packed and left. Mera sent another Spriton to watch over his home, but, well he doubted they would be coming back. 

And here he was, an unum into their travels, poking a fire and staring forlornly off into the distance. He could see the base of the Claw Mountains. It would be another week or two. Kylan demanded they go slow. He wanted to show Brea secret waterfalls and little absconded valleys that Kylan had discovered in his own travels as a soldier for his mother Maudra. And, more importantly, for his babe and wife’s health.

“Stop worrying.” Brea grunted from beneath the blankets, then raised them, “Come here, Love.” And Kylan did go to his wife, wrapped his arms around her, around her rounded stomach. She was not yet showing, but she would one day. “Kylan, listen to me,” She hummed, and his ears pricked. “All will be well, and we will go home and have as many babies as we want.” 

He just nodded with his head against her pretty blond head, but he didn’t dare say anything. Just closed his eyes and slept. Until the next day, when Brea awoke him with breakfast, and then, they headed off again. 

Again. 

They trekked further, he made sure her heavy cloak was always buttoned. That she ate. He would rub her feet at the end of each day as they moved further up, into the cold to Ha’rar. Until they entered the city. He was besieged by gaurds and citizens alike, walking in with a lost princess. He lost her in a sea of Gelfling and she was taken by the guards. To the Citadel. To her home. 

And he was tossed into the dungeon. 

He stayed there, where it was cold until late that night, but he felt the warmth of his wife and child, knew they were cared for in the palace. Felt their full bellies as he began to drift of for the night. Except the jailer rattled his keys so very loud in the hollow belly of the Citadel that echoed all through his bones. Kylan stood as the door opened, then a small form entered, “Oh, Brea.” He sighed as she rushed forward and hugged him. Her fingers kneaded over his shoulders and arms and chest.

“You’re so cold.” She shivered and tried to wrap her cloak around him. “Come on, come up to my bed.” She ordered, took his hand and pulled him along. The barely noticed the marble floors and arched ceilings of the willowy citadel. He didn’t care for the stained glass windows, just followed her down halls until they got to her chambers. He glanced at the little sitting area twice as large as the home he gave her, crammed with books in shelves and stacked on sofas and chairs and tables. Brea pulled him passed this room to a bed room. 

“Get in bed. We are going to get you warm.” 

“We?”

“Yes, we. Me and the baby.” She threw her cloak off and dropped it on the floor, kicked off her boots just as Kylan did, and climbed in. Kylan followed into the soft clean sheets that were so heavy and warm. Ah, this was nice. And Brea settled into his chest. 

“How was reuniting with your family?” Kylan shivered out and held her close, brushed his cold fingers over her wings. 

He dreamed of strange things. Of unamoths and nebrie, of their home on the Great Smerth. And of their fields at night where they race through to find a spot to star gaze. Of the firca song he created on their journey here. A song just for her and their childling. 

Then dreams unfolded lethargically until a great shake awoke him. Kylan mumbled and pulled Brea closer, and she tightened her little twisty form around him. Then, “Go away, Seladon.” 

“I want to see him.” A feminine voice whispered back, “I want to see the ingrate who defiled my little sister.” 

Oh, dear. So it begins. Kylan blinked open his eyes and shifted, sitting up with Brea in his arms. “Hello.” He stated to the woman. She was pale and beautiful, just like Brea, and dark and sad. Something has left her so sad. She nodded to him. “I’m Kylan.” He grinned at her, but she sniffed. 

“I know. We got everything we could from Brea before we restored her memory.” Restored? 

She remembered everything? Did she still like him? What if she regretted it all? He would never had been considered by a pri-

“Kylan!” Brea sounded scandalized. “You listen to me.” She was still in his arms, had not even pushed the fine heavy blankets back. She cupped his face and he grinned at her. “I love you. Memory or not isn’t going to change that.” Then she did roll out of bed. Kylan followed his wife instead of melt beneath the eldest’s death glare, and shuffled bootless after Brea. “Come on. Come meet my mother and Tavra!”


End file.
